


A Collection of Words: Or Bits of Poetry

by bug_from_space



Series: Requiem for the Dreamer (Poetry) [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: And another one bites the dust, Bad Poetry, Delusions, Divinity, Gen, Generation Gap, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Metaphor, People Change The World, Poetry, Possible Character Death, Some more bad poetry, Suicidal Thoughts, To grape juice, Unreliable Narrator, bad poetry continues, generation z, humans shouldn't try to become gods, implied at least - Freeform, ish, kind of inception-y?, psychological aversion, think Limbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 07:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bug_from_space/pseuds/bug_from_space
Summary: Chapter 1: We will not sit quietly forever, it's only a matter of time.Chapter 2: Mortality cannot equal divinity.Chapter 3: A king made of glass.Chapter 4: You are breaking apart. Press Play.(A collection of my poetry.)





	1. Our Revolution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redlipstickkisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlipstickkisses/gifts).



> So this was based off the user 'redlipstickkisses' poems, and I highly suggest everyone go read them, because they are amazing!

100 years from now all of us will be dead  
The ground littered with red threads.

But how will we be remembered?  
As an archive of posts that read ‘censored’?

We say we want to do something,  
But what? What can we do?  
Build an empire?  
End a war?  
Or watch helplessly as the bodies pile higher with each passing day?

We are the generation of the lost.  
Of the sad.  
Of the fallen.  
Of the free.

We will bring a revolution down upon this world.  
In our stories,  
And in our words,  
And we will not listen as you tell us to be quiet  
To be respectful.

We are the generation that will change the world.  
And we will leave our legacies behind.


	2. Humans≠Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poem #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is about reaching past normal limits, past 'mortality' inspiration taken from other poetry around the interwebs, and the Icarus tag on tumblr.

I will laugh at all the mortals  
Who hold onto their precious  
Mortality,  
As I bathe in the   
divine  
And coat my soul in layers of the immortal.

I will bleed out the blood red of  
Mortality  
Watch as it mixes with Golden ichor  
And laugh as I become   
divine.

I will laugh as the last vestiges of  
Mortality  
Leave my body and I become a god  
And I’ll laugh as I finally understand  
Why the mortas held so tightly on to their  
Mortality  
And never reached for   
divinity.

(Humans were never meant to be gods.)


	3. Glass King

You wanted to be king so you fashioned yourself a crown of glass  
to rule over a kingdom of mirrors 

Kingdom of holograms and hallucinations   
Your footsteps echo on a  
Sidewalk made of shattered dreams  
Held together with faded memories

Citizens nothing but distorted reflections of yourself reflected back with clarity  
Sides to yourself appearing in perfect vision  
Because you can't hide who you are from yourself

A year in this world equates to a lifetime there  
Ten, twenty, thirty, eighty years unfold faster than you can keep track  
(Whispers of a king lost inside his head)  
(Don't they know he's living there already?)

Walls reflect a man far too young  
("He's mad", "The first man to drown in his own thoughts")  
The crown cuts and the blood is silver  
(That's not right, not right, not right)

Hand hits wall. Walls shatters.  
Dominoes tiles falling, residents dying. Man who wanted to be king is at the centre.  
Silver blood covers the ground.

(Blood turns blue-pink-red. Gasping.)


	4. Press Play- No Wait!

You're spiralling   
No wait, stop, rewind 

You're not spiralling   
That implies that you were ever okay  
You weren't-couldn't be  
Your hands were destined for self destruction  
No, wait, stop, rewind

This is going to kill you  
The cyanide in these apple seeds  
Broken down until it's nothing more  
Than strawberry seeds in a drink  
No, wait, stop, rewind

You're okay  
You repeat to yourself,  
A mantra you want to believe  
Because what are you otherwise?  
No, wait, stop, rewind

This is the end you think  
Hand gently curling into the blanket  
This body of yours is your undoing  
And nothing you do can stop it  
No, wait, stop, rewind

You're spiralling  
And you don't know it yet  
(Apple seeds safely in the apple, grape juice still palatable)  
Press play.

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this /months/ ago, I'm not even kidding. But yeah, here's the finished copy. Reviews are appreciated!


End file.
